My Lasting Minutes

She pulled you in with sultry grace,
A wicked smile, a saint’s face.
Her breasts, like spells, both soft and proud,
You stared too long, your vows unvowed.

She whispered low and breathed you near,
Each word a flame, each breath sincere.
You felt her warmth, her slick embrace,
Your mind went dark, her body’s place.

She opened wide, her thighs a gate—
You rushed inside, forgot your fate.
Thrusting like a man possessed,
Consumed by lust, cursed, unblessed.

Her moans were hymns that bound your will,
She drew you deeper, drank her fill.
You raged within, a beast unleashed,
All senses of self and spirit ceased.

You lost yourself in flesh and sweat,
Each cry a vow you would regret.
You emptied all, she drained you clean—
A prince undone in passion’s scene.

Her eyes—unchanging, still, divine—
You saw yourself, then crossed the line.
No honour left, no truth, no flame—
Just echoes moaning out your name.

You crowned her queen in dark delight,
Then woke alone in morning’s blight.
The fruit had ripened, burst, and bled—
And left your soul half-lost, half-dead.

You gave her power with your fall,
Bowed to her body, gave it all.
While chasing pleasure’s fleeting spark,
You traded heaven for the dark.

Now guilt perfumes your every breath,
You kissed her lips, then tasted death.
The serpent laughed, the garden groaned—
And you, once king, now lie dethroned.